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Meanwhile there is a women doing cold sales calls at the cafe table right next to me, and not only do I feel it's rude as hell to make calls in a public quiet space like this, right now I feel a bit like she's doing the economic equivalent of necromancy and it's my obligation as a Purple Zebra Knight to slay her before she raises some foul Nutralife spirit or an avatar of Alec Baldwin or something.
Come on, Jong-Un, we're a skosh south of Vancouver. Relax, keep your eye on the ball, and hit us.
